A Bridge of Stories, A Journey of Hearts by Manuela & Lamya.

A Bridge of Stories, A Journey of Hearts by Manuela & Lamya Some stories begin not in the classroom, but in the quiet spaces of kindness. That’s how I met Lamya not as a fellow teacher, but as a sister in compassion. Later, we met again — this time, around a Zoom screen. Lamya was supporting her girls in a project with Haneen and the British Council. I was only there to guide them gently through a couple of rehearsals. They needed very little. Their talent and preparation were already shining through. Still, it felt like something had taken root between us. So when Lamya and I spoke about bringing storytelling into her class in Hebron, it felt completely natural. Like picking up a thread we had already begun to weave.

And before our first meeting, the girls had already sent me a gift: a Padlet, lovingly filled with colours, drawings, greetings, questions, dreams. It was alive with their energy. Their warmth radiated from the screen. They were already opening the door to me — inviting me in. I stepped in gratefully. Our first session began on a Tuesday morning with Mr Wiggle and Mr Waggle. A simple finger play, silly and sweet. But it did something beautiful — it unlocked smiles, questions, stories. The girls were eager to tell me about themselves, their interests, their customs. And I shared mine.

A gentle current of trust was already beginning to flow. Our second meeting was all about fun. We sang, played drama games, and learned words like white cat, witch, chimney sweep, family, rocking chair. Can you guess the story I was leading them into? Of course — The Little White Cat. A beautiful tale I had once learned from Duncan Williamson and passed on to students in Florence, Newcastle, Marrakesch, Mumbai then Gaza, and now… to these bright, open-hearted girls in Hebron. Their joy was contagious. Our third session was a little more challenging. The girls listened kindly, but something wasn’t quite clicking. That’s when Lamya, always so intuitive, gently suggested: “Why don’t we use the Stories Reborn stories?” Of course. The series had just launched. I had recently told Juha at the Bakery and couldn’t wait to try it. So I prepared. The book is provided with beautiful flashcards, a chant for every story, and the scripts. I smiled the whole time, imagining the girls’ reactions. At our fourth meeting, I told Juha at the Bakery — and it was a triumph. The girls laughed, joined in, chanted with rhythm and joy. They reflected, too: “Juha is funny but smart.” “The story taught me to be honest and patient.” – Raghad “We don’t believe everything!” – said Nada, smiling wisely. Mela added her own reflection: “Juha is a funny character who pretends to be foolish, but is actually wise — he always finds a way out of tricky situations.” Then a few days ago, Zeina asked: “Do we have any photos from our link ups?” I didn’t — but Lamya did. Windows into our moments together, our smiles, our shared space.

I looked at them and felt so much gratitude. Now, our final meeting is near. We’ve decided to share our home towns. I will tell the girls about Arezzo, and they will show me Hebron. We’ll play a little, maybe act out a tiny story. But mostly, we’ll celebrate everything we’ve built — across distance, across language, through stories, and through care. This collaboration with Lamya has grown from a professional connection to something more tender and real — a friendship. We bring our strengths together, balancing and lifting each other, creating learning moments that are magical because they are grounded in kindness, respect, and belief in the children we teach. To the wonderful girls in Lamya’s class: You have been shining stars on these Tuesday mornings. Your laughter, your questions, your openness — they’ve touched me deeply. You have what it takes to face your exams with courage and joy. I believe in you. Study well, stay curious, and keep telling your stories — the world needs them. And I will be cheering you on, always. With love, Manuela & Lamya. Link here